Of Medicine and Theater, Part 1 (of 4
by marie b
Summary: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and a trade dispute; Danae and Maa-Br'ee join in


Title: Of Medicine and Theater, Part One (of Four)  
Author: Marie B. (b_marie@hotmail.com)  
Date: 8/21/99  
General disclaimer: Danae and Jehru Maa-Br'ee are mine. A few others are available for hire. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, and anything recognizable have been annexed by my imagination.  
Specific disclaimers: This takes place after "First Impressions," which has a bit more explanation of who and what Danae and Maa-Br'ee are. There's four parts, all of which should be up in a day or two. Someday soon I'll also post an interlude that explains the endless allusions to Danae's problem with fortune tellers. After that, who knows what might befall my little apprentice?

  
Of Medicine and Theater, Part One . . . 

Prologue

The crowd oohed in unison, their heads tilting rhythmically, right, left, right, left. A fierce battle was being portrayed on the small circular stage that had been hastily constructed on the outskirts of Mos Eisley: a middle-aged Gran, cast rather strangely as the young hero, was fighting bandits for the hand of his lady-love, an equally adult Twi'lek woman. Everyone applauded as the last bandit collapsed with a terrible shriek, and the motley throng of people began to slowly disperse as the Twi'lek flung her arms around her savior and kissed him wetly on the cheek.

Danae smiled, applauding furiously. She liked the theater troupe, the first of its kind on the Rim. _The people here are so used to nothing but smugglers and gangs, it's wonderful they can see another way of life, however poorly done._ Her Master, Jehru Maa-Br'ee, had taken her to their first performance for her eighteenth birthday, just a few weeks ago. Since then she had tried to attend as many of the makeshift performances as she could.

_Every present has a lesson involved,_ she thought idly. _Leave it to Maa-Br'ee to pick one that has to do with theater._ He had noticed long ago her careful attention to her appearance on missions: using face paint to make her appearance more menacing; binding her hair with thread to form tiny horns on her head, or slicking it back to make herself look more masculine; bartering with peasants for their nondescript clothing to blend in with local populations. _Everyone sees what they want to, but I can still influence their perceptions, and in ways other than using the Force. _

But it's more than that. It's about how stories can influence will, and desire. How what you imagine yourself to be can become real, or the real become imaginary . . . 

As the actors took their bows and promptly began to undo the stage, she heard two beings next to her speaking in a soft Huttese.

"I must tell Jabba," the Pa'lowick whispered. "He will pay well for this information."

"Agreed," the other, a large Human male, purred. "He will be amused at such a violation."

Her smile faded. The Hutt took a share of everything in the Rim, but it struck her as ridiculous that someone would bother to turn in half-a dozen actors. _They didn't even charge for this. What profit could be had?_

She waited until the Human departed, then tapped the Pa'lowick on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said politely in Huttese. 

He whirled, his eyes bobbing impatiently on their stalks. "What?"

She waved her hand gently. "Jabba won't pay for such information."

"Jabba won't pay for such information," he repeated.

"He has agreed to let them perform."

"He has agreed to let them perform."

"You should tell everyone, so they do not face his wrath."

"I should tell everyone," the Pa'lowick repeated quickly. "Or he will be angry indeed."

Danae bit back a smile and pushed past him, clouding her presence as she did so. _He won't remember me, not exactly. Just my advice, and hopefully he'll stick to it._

As she headed back towards Mos Eisley, she glanced up at the sky. The twin suns of Tatooine had begun to dip on the horizon, and a faint chill was taking the edge off the heat. A large sack of fruit was slung over her shoulder, purchases from the morning market, and it slapped comfortingly against her back as she walked. But it didn't dispell the growing certainty that she had been gone far longer than she had planned on, and Maa-Br'ee was in all likelihood waiting for her.

_Or coming after me._ She scowled as she saw her Master's familiar form, his stout body swathed in his robe despite the heat, standing near the door to their quarters. Danae had left her own robe behind, and she knew she would get reprimanded for that as well. _So what will it be this time? Another day helping moisture farmers clean their equipment? Bartering with Jawas?_

But Maa-Br'ee didn't turn around as she drew closer. He was speaking with a tall Rodian, who kept shaking his head at whatever Maa-Br'ee was saying. She could tell by his hand gestures that her Master was agitated, and her face grew crafty. _Maybe I can just slip inside--_

As she strolled idly by, keeping her face averted, his hand shot out and seized her arm in an iron grip. Danae sighed as he yanked her next to him, shooting her a disapproving look before turning back to the Rodian. "I still don't understand," he said in awkward Huttese. "When was this done?

"Maa-Br'ee, I already told you. A week ago. But it doesn't matter. Right now, you can get it done anywhere. Rim, Core, wherever."

Maa-Br'ee sighed. "Laeko, this is my apprentice, Danae. Danae, this is Laeko."

She smiled at the Rodian, who nodded briefly at her. _So this is the infamous Laeko. The one who took out those spice traders. But last time Maa-Br'ee mentioned him, he said that Laeko had contracted a fever, and wasn't expected to last the next turn._

"Show her," Maa-Br'ee said.

Laeko groaned and pulled his shirt up. Danae gasped. A thick weal ran across the Rodian's green chest, closed with haphazard stitches. The wound was puffy with infection, and a sticky yellow film lay over its entirety, oozing out from the center. 

_He needs bacta, and fast._ She glanced at Maa-Br'ee, who shook his head once. 

"It's not as bad as it looks," Laeko said irritably, pulling his shirt back down. "I don't see what the problem is."

"It's not a problem, Laeko. I'm just having difficulty understanding what happened." Maa-Br'ee turned to Danae. "I told him about our friend, the miner whose lungs have been damaged . . ."

_Got it._ "Oh, right!" She nodded. "He's doing terribly, from what I remember."

"His last transmission said he only had a few months left." 

"But there's nothing anyone can do to help him."

"For a Jedi, you're really slow," Laeko snapped. "Like I said, it cost me three thousand dataries. Get it done anywhere, just ask around. It's legit. That's all I know."

"There are few donor operations, though." Maa-Br'ee shook his head. "And my friend cannot wait forever."

"Two weeks for my heart."

Danae felt her stomach roll. _Heart donors? What is going on? Cybernetics are standard practice now. How could he get a heart transplant?_

"Do you think our friend could have this done?" She looked earnestly at Laeko.

"How should I know?" He scowled. "They're running the supply off of some moon out on the fringes. Look, why don't you just ask the Federation yourselves? You're the Jedi. You should know more than I do."

_You're right. But we don't, and that's a problem_. "What moon?"

Maa-Br'ee shot her another disapproving look. 

Laeko scratched at the spines running down his skull. "Canissa? I think it's Canissa. Some moon or other." He shrugged, his expression distasteful.

"And you got a Rodian heart?" She ignored Maa-Br'ee's foot, which had moved on top of her own and was pressing hard.

"I don't know what it is, and I don't care." Laeko shrugged again. "I'm alive, and I feel pretty good. All I need." His ears rotated, focusing on something behind him. 

"But--"

"Sorry. Time to go." Laeko glanced over his shoulder, then suddenly pushed past them, striding hurriedly towards the marketplace.

"Well," Maa-Br'ee said coldly in Basic. "Aren't we in a hurry?"

"Him or me?" Danae folded her arms across her chest.

"Both of you. What was that, anyway?"

"It's hot, Maa-Br'ee. And we would have been here forever at the rate you were going."

He frowned. "Sometimes, Padawan, there is more to be had in the process--"

"--than just the goal," she finished. "I know, I know."

"If you know so much, then why were you so direct?"

"Because sometimes, Maa-Br'ee," she replied irritably, "there's only the goal."

"Well, now that we've settled that, why are you looking guilty?"

She hesitated. "Looking how?"

"Guilty. It's all over your face. What have you been up to?"

"Not much," she said uneasily. "Just getting some pikas, looking around."

"Did you finish the report?"

"Almost."

"You know what we agreed upon, Danae."

"Either I write them up, or we go to Coruscant and do it in person. I know, Maa-Br'ee. And it's almost done, really. I just need to add on the Malastare files."

Maa-Br'ee wiped at his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. "These suns will be the death of me," he muttered. 

"See?" She arched an eyebrow. "Way too hot to be playing verbal games with a Rodian. And why were you so interested in him, anyway?"

Maa-Br'ee looked at her patiently.

"Just because he got a heart transplant?"

He stood perfectly still, gazing at her.

"I mean, yes, it was very cheap and sloppy, and probably illegal. But only for that reason?"

His eyes stayed focused on her face.

Danae groaned. "Why do I have the feeling we're about to go to this moon?"

"Canissa," Maa-Br'ee said calmly.

"Wasn't there something about Canissa in the Council update?"

He stared at her.

"A renegotiation? For grain? Two Jedi already sent to mediate?"

Maa-Br'ee began to smile.

And, despite her irritation, Danae found herself smiling in return. "So I guess I should go find Bavu, then?"

Maa-Br'ee's face immediately changed to sternness. "Don't even try it. I'll find Bavu. You are going to finish that report _now._ And if I hear anything in the cantina about your excursion today, I will make sure that Bavu knows you are more than happy to help him clean his ship. _Any_ part of his ship. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Maa-Br'ee."

"You said you bought pikas?"

She sighed and dug into the bag, handing him one of the fruits. 

"So get a move on, then."

"You're going to have to think of a really good excuse for this."

Maa-Br'ee grinned. "I might not have to think of anything at all. Have you seen the condition of Bavu's ship lately? I'll be surprised if that boat can get off Tatooine, much less find this Canissa."

"We don't even know if Canissa is the right planet."

Her Master paused for a moment. "I think it is. There's a bit more to this, or I wouldn't have cornered Laeko in the first place. I'll tell you when I get back." 

"Why don't you just tell me now?" Danae looked at him curiously.

"Because you--" he jabbed a finger against her chest-- "have a report to write. Dawdling out here isn't going to do anything except give you a burn, and red, my dearest Padawan, is a color you do not wear well."

Danae sighed. _I can't remember the last time I got burned. But Bavu's ship is filthy. _"Okay, I'm going. But I didn't think I looked that terrible in red." She strode into their quarters, grumbling under her breath.

Maa-Br'ee watched her until the door shut behind her, then burst out laughing. He was still snickering when he reached the cantina.

  
1.

In the capitol building of Manis, central city of Canissa, the second round of talks to renegotiate of the contracted price of grain were not going well. Tensions were mounting, especially in one of the tiny moon's two governors, a feral native named Pl'xa. It left Qui-Gon Jinn feeling distinctly uneasy. Governor Pl'xa's irritation seemed almost . . . showy, an act of sorts. Even now, she seemed to be deliberately provoking the Trade Federation representative, and the Neimoidian Lieutenant was beginning to indulge in a rare display of outright anger.

"This means nothing," Pl'xa spat, throwing the sample contracts back onto the table. "This is only two planets. And I have no way of knowing if the quality of grain on these planets is comparable to that of Canissa."

Lieutenant Pune smiled coldly back. "I have that data as well. I think you will find that the quality of grain in question is equal to that of Canissa, if not slightly superior."

"Are you trying to insult us?"

Qui-Gon coughed hurriedly. He had been a Jedi for decades, and travelled to many planets, overseeing many similar discussions. But Canissa was a remote moon in the galaxy; it had no formal Senate representation, and as little interest in obeying the Republic's unspoken codes of conduct for planet governments. With a fresh round of patience, he tried to guide the conversation towards more neutral ground.

"I highly doubt the honorable representative of the Federation seeks to insult, Governor Pl'xa," he began. "Why don't we see what other data he has brought--"

"And how do we know that hasn't been doctored?" Pl'xa glared at him. "You do not know, Ambassador, the amount of trouble we have had with the Federation."

By her side, an elderly Human man frowned at Pl'xa before turning to Qui-Gon. "It has been a somewhat uneasy alliance from the beginning, Ambassador," he said calmly. "But we are hoping to change that, with these talks."

"And the first step to doing so is to see all the information at hand," Qui-Gon replied. 

Pl'xa snorted. "Governor Maku is far more trusting than I am. And his people are not as aware of the difficulties we are undergoing."

"With all due respect, Governor Pl'xa, our current economic crisis affects all the people of Canissa. Humans and Canissans alike." Maku frowned at her again. "My constituency is putting just as much pressure on me for a resolution as yours are doing to you."

Pune shook his head. "While the Federation sympathizes with the troubles of Canissa, we see no reason to renegotiate the price of grain at this time."

"In accordance with regulation 3-D9 of the Federation's franchise," Qui-Gon cut in, "the Federation is obligated to hear to completion any such request."

"We challenge that regulation. There is no basis for the request." Pune sat back, smiling broadly.

In his seat next to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan Kenobi stifled a yawn. _If he starts challenging regulations, this will take forever. First it will have to go to committee, then the decision returned to us. _He had remained silent in the meetings, at the bidding of his Master. Although he was nearly sixteen, Qui-Gon had impressed upon him how tricky the negotiations would be, and how delicate their handling must be in return. 

He didn't mind as much as he thought he would. Every time Pl'xa's anger was directed at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan was thankful that he would never be its object. _She looks at everyone like she wants to eat them._ There had been little in the archives regarding Canissa, aside from the usual statistics regarding population, economy, and government structure. He hadn't been prepared for the native Canissan appearance: tall beings, covered with fine fur that gave them a feral look. He hadn't been prepared for the food, or the tension between not just the Federation and the Governors, but the two Governors themselves. And he hadn't been prepared at all for the unease and fear--_it's not just me, it's Qui-Gon too--_ he had sensed ever since they landed three days ago.

What he had prepared for, and was curious regarding its absence, was a representative from the third population of Canissa. The only reference in the archived reports was a casual mention of _slags_, a race that was neither in the official census report nor anywhere to be seen in Manis itself. _The report said they were nomadic, though. And we barely saw the city._

As the meeting swung into yet another regulation discussion, a slender Canissan male entered. Pl'xa waved him close, and he bent and whispered in her ear. Obi-Wan listened intently, trying to catch some part of their conversation, but they were speaking in Cant, the local language. Though he had tried to pick up a little before arriving, he had been stymied by the strange tongue-clicks that punctuated most of the vocabulary, and he now frowned in irritation as he realized he couldn't understand a word.

Pl'xa's face fell into an expression of pure rage. "Ambassador!"

Qui-Gon looked up from the latest round of statistics that Pune had distrubuted. "Is there a problem, your Honor?"

"I was unaware that two more Jedi were required for this situation." She glared at him, then turned her furious stare on Pune. "Unless the honorable representative of the Federation is displeased with the current procceedings?"

Pune shook his head. "I am not pleased, Governor Pl'xa. But I have no desire to see these talks weighted down with yet another opinion. I have made no requests."

"Jedi travel to many planets throughout the galaxy. They are probably just here to refuel, and visit for a day," Qui-Gon said easily.

But Obi-Wan could sense his Master's mind opening, sense him testing the feel of the Force. He did so as well. _It has changed, but just barely. Like a bending, of sorts. Not a disruption--_

"They have been in Manis for a day already," Pl'xa said coldly.

_And how did you know that?_ _Manis looked like a good-sized city. Even for Jedi, to be noticed so quickly is strange._

Maku stirred. "Well, perhaps we should invite them here? Far be it for Canissa to treat such distinguished visitors so inhospitably." He smiled at Qui-Gon. "It has been our hope that these negotiations would lead to not only a better relationship with the Trade Federation, but with your Order as well."

Qui-Gon smiled in return. Both he and Obi-Wan liked the Human governor. Throughout the talks, Maku had said little, calmly holding to his demands even as his co-governor and Lieutenant Pune had grown heated. "With all due respect, Governor Maku, Canissa's hospitality is not the issue at present. I am sure that the Jedi will be fine. They will probably be gone in a day or two."

"Perhaps you could contact your Council, and reassure us of that?" Pl'xa was drumming her fingers on the table. 

"But of course," Qui-Gon replied. "I will do so this evening."

"Sooner would be preferable."

Qui-Gon's face twitched, almost imperceptibly. "During the midday break, then."

"Thank you. Now, in regards to regulation 43C--"

Obi-Wan felt his attention slipping again, and tried to focus on the meetings. But he kept wandering back to the sudden information presented. _Jedi, here? How many? Who?_ He forced himself back to the task at hand. Qui-Gon was forever criticising him for his inability to stay in a moment, for letting his thoughts wander. And if he didn't start changing, he would never be allowed to participate.

_Still--whoever they are, I hope they're doing something more interesting._

* * * * *  
_  
_ Danae leaned forward, straining to hear in the bustle of the noisy tavern. Had they been in the Rim, she would have shouted at everyone to shut up, but Canissa wasn't the Rim, a fact that she was rapidly learning meant more difficulties than just noise. "What do you mean, disappeared?" she asked in Cant, struggling to modify her somewhat faulty inflections as she spoke.

The middle-aged Human who sat across from her shrugged, looking about uneasily. "No one really knows. I heard a rumor that the _slags_ are attacking some of the smaller towns, though."

She sighed and turned to her side, translating for Maa-Br'ee. The olive-skinned Master shook his head, putting down his half-full glass of rum. "Ask him if he knows anyone who has disappeared," he instructed in Basic.

Danae repeated the question, frowning slightly as she did so. She could feel the fear coming off of the Human, as she had with every being they had met since landing on the outskirts of Manis the day before. While she sensed that something was gravely wrong, she disliked pressuring individuals who had no desire to risk themselves, and obviously quite a lot to lose.

"I had a friend," the Human admitted slowly. "Knew him since he was little. One day he went out into the forest, to get some timber. He was building a little shed out in back of his house. And he never came back. We searched for him, but found nothing."

"Your age?"

The Human nodded.

"Is it always from the forest?" She ignored Maa-Br'ee's gentle prod, the Force pushing at her mind slightly. _In a minute, in a minute--_

"No. There are swamps as well, I've heard of it happening there. And even from the cities, a few times. Looks like a robbery, but the people are gone. Police put it down to thieves, maybe the _slags_, but no one knows." The Human began to look at his glass as if it was the most interesting object in the galaxy.

She sighed and relayed the information to Maa-Br'ee. He nodded thoughtfully. "Ask him what race the police are, and if he has heard of Canissans being taken."

Danae took a sip from her own glass, smiling at the warmth of the spiced ale, and repeated the questions. The Human shrugged again. "Police are mostly Canissan, but not all. Integration's been slow here. I don't know if the Canissans are disappearing too. They usually stay on their side, and we stay on ours."

_Makes sense with what we've seen so far_. The first thing they had done when they landed was scout the entirety of Manis. The city was haphazardly divided, with the Human population residing in the newer southern region, the Canissans in the older northeast regions. _Humans were definitely unwanted, and both sides seem content with this segregation._ She murmured the Human's response to Maa-Br'ee and sat back, waiting.

"Ask him if he wants another round." Maa-Br'ee finished his glass and set it down on the table. "Because I certainly do."

But the Human shook his head as Danae repeated the question. "No. I -ah, I've said more than enough. And I should be going home." He rose abruptly, bowed once, and slipped into the throng of people.

Danae turned to Maa-Br'ee. "This is bad."

"Very bad." Her Master leaned in close. "Look around you. Few offworlders. A planet riddled with racial tension, and not just between the Humans and Canissans." He glanced at the waiter, silently working the tables, ignoring the patronizing tone that most of the Humans used to address him.

"If that is a _slag,_" Danae said quietly, "then he's only the fourth we've seen."

"It has to be. Look at the physical structure. He's not Human, not quite." 

The waiter was a stocky, thick-set being, seemingly without definition to his body. Thick arms led directly into hands, and instead of a forehead he had a raised mound of flesh, pushing his hairline back a few inches. 

"And we saw those others, in the Canissan section," Maa-Br'ee continued. "All domestic servants."

"No official representation, either."

"No. Unwise, to bar one of three in such a fashion." He sighed, thinking. "I'm not sure what our next step should be."

"We could go to the forest. Try to find a location for one of these disappearances."

"We also have the matter of the other Jedi to think about."

Danae bit her lip. "Do you want to contact them? They must have sensed us by now."

"I'm sure Qui-Gon has. He knows me too well not to. I'm not sure about the other, whoever it is." Maa-Br'ee paused. "It's difficult to say what our course should be. I have no way of knowing where they are in the talks. Contact could undo much that they have tried to accomplish."

"But if something is wrong here, it could pertain to the talks as well."

"Yes. But I think, for the moment, we have to trust Qui-Gon to handle anything that might arise there." Maa-Br'ee rose. "Let's go back to the ship for now. I want to look at those archives again, and see the trading records for the last year."

Danae grinned at him. "What about that second round?"

Maa-Br'ee sighed. "That can wait. And you should meditate, Padawan. I want you focused, not scattered about with ale and talk."

"I don't get scattered by ale."

"The only reason I let you drink at all," he retorted. "And I have no wish to see what happens when you finally find the limits of that Provissian tolerance of yours."

"As opposed to your tolerance?" She rose as well, her eyes sparkling. 

"Some of us aren't as lucky as you are."

"So you earned it by vomiting behind cantinas?"

Maa-Br'ee groaned. "Why I ever told you that, I'll never know . . . "

He led the way through the crowd, smiling at people as he pushed past them. Danae did the same, out of habit. She had noted early in her training the general goodwill that Maa-Br'ee seemed to engender with such simple body language, and had picked it up quickly. 

As they stepped outside, he paused and looked at the capitol building. Danae cocked her head at him. "We could contact them--"

"Perhaps tomorrow. For now, let's go back to the ship." But Maa Br'ee's brow furrowed as he spoke.

"I sense it, too." _Ever since we got here. Fear, almost palpable. It's making me queasy. And it's growing, yet everyone acts unaware._

He shook himself and smiled at her. "We must be patient. Besides, Bavu will be getting lonely without you annoying him."

She chuckled as she fell into step beside him. "I can't help it. He's too much fun."

"You could, however, stop hanging your damp undergarments in the cockpit to dry."

"The cockpit is warmer than our rooms. They dry faster there." She looked around innocently.

"While we're there, perhaps we can cut this hair of yours?" He gestured to her head, the short purple locks starting to curl over her ears.

Danae shook her head. "Maa-Br'ee, please--"

"After you pass your trials, my apprentice, you can grow it as long as you want."

"The length of my hair has nothing to do with my training."

"It does, actually," Maa-Br'ee said mildly.

"Just because I don't look like a sheared bantha doesn't mean I'm going to start ogling myself."

"It's a distraction, Danae. And you have enough distractions to deal with."

Danae fell silent. _Not this again._

Her Master rubbed her head affectionately. "I didn't mean it like that," he murmured. "You know that I understand."

"I know."

"About everything. Don't doubt that."

"I know," she repeated.

He stopped in the middle of the street. "Look at me."

Danae swallowed, her eyes meeting his. "What?"

He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding them tightly. "I trust you, Danae. More, perhaps, than you trust yourself. As for the other matter, it will resolve itself in time. There is nothing we can do now."

"Okay." It was all she could manage around the sudden lump in her throat. _But what if it happens again? And then Aurra on top of it all--it's just too much, sometimes, I can't handle it. How can I ever pass my trials, if I have all of this inside of me?_

He shook her roughly. "Stop it. Stop it this instant."

"I'm trying," she shot back, her voice choking.

"I need you clear, Danae. Focused."

"I will be."

Maa-Br'ee stared at her for a moment, then his hands fell to his sides. "I understand," he said softly. "And I can try to help you, Danae. But you're the only one who can affect any of this. What you are, what your fate will be. Only you can decide these things."

He turned and began walking briskly back towards the ship. Danae stared at his retreating form, a tear sliding down her cheek. _But what if it's greater than me? How do you fight your own instincts? Or what others have told you is your destiny?_

She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her robe, and began following him slowly.

* * * * *

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan strode back towards the conference room. Obi Wan's brow furrowed as he replayed their brief discussion with Yoda in his mind. _No Jedi is reported to be out here. Which means that they're here without informing the Council, or us. But everyone was updated on this situation. _"Who do you think they are, Master?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon replied, his voice equally as soft. "But I have an idea."

"Shouldn't they have told us that they would be here?"

"Normally, yes. They should know of the situation and contact us if they are going to spend any time here." It was common practice, both as a way of keeping in touch and making sure an unexpected arrival didn't affect a mission. 

_Which they are, with unpleasant results. _Obi-Wan ducked his head as he saw Pl'xa walking briskly towards them, her face set. 

"Did you speak to your Council?" 

"Yes, your Honor." Qui-Gon bowed slightly, and Obi-Wan did the same behind him. "There is no report of a Jedi coming to Manis for any specific purpose, but several are in the Outer Rim."

"So why come here?"

"Perhaps to refuel, or to spend a day of rest?" Qui-Gon looked at her sharply. He could sense raw anger behind her shortness of tone. 

"We shall see. If they do not leave in a day, I must ask that you contact them, and ascertain their purpose here." Pl'xa paused. "Our planet is in a period of turmoil right now, Ambassador. I do not want any more disturbance to these talks than absolutely necessary."

Obi-Wan frowned at the floor, carefully hiding his expression. _But that makes no sense. They should just be thought of as offworlders, and treated accordingly. Unless this is how Canissa treats offworlders. _The sense of unease increased minutely.

"But of course," Qui-Gon replied. "Though I'm sure they'll be gone by tomorrow."

Somehow, the words didn't sound right to Obi-Wan.

2.

Obi-Wan pulled his robe more securely around himself as he strode down the boulevard towards the Human section of Manis. It was closer than the Canissan section, and there were a few taverns and restaurants, though he had been quick to note the near absence of diners in the evening. _And I wouldn't have to go out at all, if they would feed us. Not the usual sense of hospitality, especially when we were invited here._

_Or is it because the Federation requested us? Would they treat us so poorly, just for that reason? _ Besides the lack of dining accomodations, Qui-Gon and his Padawan had also been subjected to inquiry every time they left the capitol building, or asked to use the transmitter. And their ship had been damaged just before they reached the planet's orbit, struck by a barrage of debris released from a passing freighter.

_Which didn't identify itself, despite our hails._

His forehead creased slightly as he pushed his way into the third tavern he passed, the only decent eatery they had found. _Although decent is pushing it. I've never seen so much grain in my life. You'd think they ate nothing else here._

He walked up to the counter, handing over the slip of paper he drew from a pocket in his robe. On it, Qui-Gon had scribbled their order in Cant with the help of a protocol droid. Both Jedi had trouble with the language, and obviously Qui-Gon's handwriting left something to be desired: the Human behind the counter looked at it for a long moment, his eyes squinting at the shapes, before finally shrugging and handing it back to the kitchen.

It was then that Obi-Wan felt it. A faint tickle, at the base of his neck. He turned, looking around. _Someone using the Force--_ he scanned the interior, but it wasn't until his gaze fell on the far corner, draped in shadow, that he saw the robed hand raise and gesture to him.

He approached warily, still looking around. As he reached the table, he could make out a smile beneath the hood. Two plump hands raised up and slid the dark brown fabric back, revealing a Corellian face that seemed to overflow with good humor.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." The Jedi spoke his name gently. "I doubt you even remember me."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said respectfully. "I do not." _But he looks familiar, somehow._

"I am Jehru Maa-Br'ee. I know your Master well. So you are the second Ambassador here?"

Obi-Wan nodded, eyeing Maa-Br'ee.

"How are the talks progressing?"

"Well."

"That is good, for both the planet and yourselves." Maa-Br'ee leaned back, looking him over. "You've grown quite a bit since I saw you last."

_The Force around him--it's different. _"I suppose," he said uneasily.

"I saw you when you were almost thirteen. You made quite an impression on my own Padawan. Danae was very enthusiastic about you."

Obi-Wan started. "Danae?"

"I thought she spoke with you, then. Dark purple hair, white skin?" He smiled. "She was about sixteen. She has grown a little, but she's about your height."

"Yes, I remember her," Obi-Wan replied quickly. _Her eyes--she touched my face, and said it would turn out fine. To keep my head, and my heart. Violet eyes, and the irises almost golden, like suns._ "Ah--is she here, Master Jehru?"

"On our ship, reviewing some materials."

"May I ask you a question?" 

"You can ask me a dozen. And you can stop calling me Sir, or Master. Call me Maa-Br'ee." He shrugged. "I never did get used to the formalities of the Order."

"Uh, okay, Maa-Br'ee." He had to force himself to say the name; it felt almost unnatural. "Why are you here?"

"Our ship was damaged," Maa-Br'ee replied smoothly.

"Master Qui-Gon thought you would have contacted him."

"We've been a little busy, but I shall tomorrow, how's that?" 

"I suppose," Obi-Wan repeated, feeling uneasy again.

Maa-Br'ee stared at him for a moment. "Is everything alright, Obi Wan?"

He nodded quickly. "We're fine."

"Do you not sense it, then?"

"Sense what, M--Maa-Br'ee?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Maa-Br'ee smiled warmly at him.

"Something feels wrong," Obi-Wan admitted. "But Master Qui-Gon thinks it's because of the economic troubles."

"I see. A wise assessment." Maa-Br'ee suddenly rose. "And there's my food, I think."

"Will you be staying long, then?"

"We need to reassess our schedule." He looked at Obi-Wan again, so deeply the apprentice had to fight the impulse to squirm. "You're still growing, aren't you?"

Obi-Wan nodded, a slight flush rising in his cheeks.

"I seem to be cursed with being the shortest Jedi in the Order," Maa Br'ee said sadly. "Danae outstripped me a year ago, and at this rate you'll be almost as tall as your Master."

"I--I don't think so," Obi-Wan stammered.

"It is a poor fate in this galaxy, Obi-Wan, when a Jedi can only tower over Yoda and Yaddle." He patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Count your blessings, young man. And send my regards to your Master. May the Force be with you both."

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied. "Maa-Br'ee," he added hastily.

"See?" Maa-Br'ee grinned over his shoulder as he walked to the counter. "Much nicer than Sir, I think. For me at least."

Obi-Wan stared openly as the stout man scooped up his food, paid for it, and left. His head was spinning. _Danae. I haven't thought of her in a while, not much, anyway. And she is here, and he is her Master. He's so strange. His face--it was like he was made of masks._

He suddenly realized he had very important information to bring back to Qui-Gon. He waited with mounting impatience until their food arrived, then snatched it up, nearly running back to the capitol building.

* * * * *

Qui-Gon began opening the containers, frowning slightly. "So much stew?" he muttered under his breath. "Canissa's culinary delights leave much to be desired."

Obi-Wan stood in the room, fighting the urge to shout out the details of his unexpected encounter. His feet twitched slightly, and he had to struggle to keep from shifting his weight.

"Your meal is getting cold, my apprentice." Qui-Gon began dishing out the stew into small bowls.

Obi-Wan remained standing. _I'm going to explode--_

"And I would assume by your silence you had an encounter in Manis," Qui-Gon said after a moment.

"Yes, Master," he replied, his voice almost a shout.

"Sit down, Obi-Wan."

His apprentice slid into a chair, his eyes dancing.

"So let me guess. You ran into a Jedi named Jehru Maa-Br'ee. With his Padawan, Danae, who you met in the Temple before you were sent to Bandomeer."

Obi-Wan's excitement collapsed. "How did you know?" he whispered.

"I sensed a change in the Force. As did you." Qui-Gon smiled as he pushed a bowl in front of Obi-Wan. "Having known Jehru for many years, I recognized this particular change as being unmistakeably his own."

"But you didn't say anything--"

"I wanted to be sure. And it is very much in keeping with Jehru to find the one decent source of food in Manis, and be there so late for his own dinner."

"Oh." Obi-Wan began picking at his food.

"I did not mean to spoil your suprise, my apprentice." Qui-Gon rolled a piece of fruit in his direction as an apology. "So what did Jehru say?"

"He was strange, Master. He said their ship was damaged, and he didn't know how long they would be here for. And he said I wasn't to call him Sir or Master, but simply Maa-Br'ee."

"Very much in keeping with him as well. Is that all? What about his student?"

"She wasn't there. She was at their ship, I think. He said something about going over materials. And he asked me if I sensed anything wrong."

Qui-Gon looked at him sharply. "Does he?"

"He didn't say, exactly. But he asked in a way that implied he did."

"Is he going to contact me?"

"He said he would tomorrow. But only after I asked him." Obi-Wan looked at him curiously. "Do you think their ship is seriously damaged? Maybe we should help with the repairs?"

"Perhaps. Though it is strange that they should be so far." Qui-Gon stared at the wall, lost in thought. 

"He's different, Master."

Qui-Gon shook himself and smiled gently at Obi-Wan. "How so, do you think?"

"I couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was like a mask. And the Force--it's different around him, as well."

"What does it feel like to you?"

"It feels--" Obi-Wan paused, struggling for words. _Like it was darker, but not like a turned Jedi, not like Xanatos. All I can think of is mud, or shadows._ "It doesn't feel clear, coming from him. It's as if the Force is tangled, somehow. Like a web. I'm not sure how to describe it--"

"No, that's very good." Qui-Gon sighed and leaned forward, pushing the bowl away. "You've never met a Jedi like him before, have you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head.

"And you did not sense this from his student?"

"I don't really remember." He thought for a moment. _All I can remember is her touch on my face, and her voice, telling me it would be fine. But there was a feeling, like it was somehow greater than both of us, that moment._ "I sensed something. But it was a few years ago."

"I would not be surprised if it is her way as well." Qui-Gon drew on the table. "Think of the Force as two channels."

Obi-Wan nodded, leaning over to watch his fingers.

"There is the light, and the dark. One cannot exist without the other. Each defines the other. We, like most Jedi, have chosen the light for our path. We use it to guide our actions and our thoughts. Others, who have turned, choose the dark for their path, and use it for their own devices."

Obi-Wan nodded again.

Qui-Gon's finger traced a third line. "But it is possible, though very difficult, to create a path between the two sides. In this path, you hear both sides of the Force. And you must choose which you obey, in every moment. Those who follow this path believe themselves dedicated to the balance of the Force, Obi-Wan. They not only acknowledge the necessity of both sides, but work to right any imbalance of the Force."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. "But that would mean--"

"And it doesn't, not in Jehru. It is a difficult path to explain, Obi Wan, much less to follow. Even I don't understand it completely. He explained it to me once as always choosing to act or step aside. Jehru believes that there are moments when the dark must win, otherwise the light loses its value and meaning. And while he has never actively participated in those battles, he has chosen to turn away, and let events run their course."

"He ignores the Force?"

"In those moments, he felt that balance would be achieved by withdrawing from the situation. He listens to the unifying Force, but he does not always choose to act. I can count on one hand the number of times I know he has turned away. There could be a few more. But however few they are, they have defined his path as different from ours."

"But how could he--" Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I, not completely. But it is something to be aware of, my apprentice. That there are choices to be had, even for those in the Order." Qui-Gon pointed to Obi-Wan's bowl. "And you should finish your dinner, which is almost certainly cold."

Obi-Wan dug into his stew, chewing pensively. "Do you think they're here for something?" he mumbled.

"Don't speak and eat at the same time. I do not know. If Jehru doesn't contact me by the noon break tomorrow, I will contact him. We should know what their plans are, and if they have any information we are lacking."

"What if there's something wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, carefully swallowing beforehand.

"Then we will deal with it as it comes. For now, we must focus on the situation. All will be revealed in time." Qui-Gon began eating steadily, a clear sign that the conversation had ended.

"I should check on the astromech tomorrow," Obi-Wan said after a moment.

"Yes, you should. I want the ship finished as soon as possible."

"We'll be here for at least another week."

"Nevertheless. Let me know as soon as the repairs are complete, and we can set about refueling."

Obi-Wan eyed him uneasily. "So you do think something is wrong, then."

"You must learn patience, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied sternly. "So far there is nothing to warrant any suspicion. We shall have to wait and see."

Obi-Wan fell silent, and began eating again.

* * * * *

Danae leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes with two pale, violet-speckled hands. Her head was spinning from the reports that were flickering on the monitor before her. _Gross annual trade . . . taxation 5 year plans . . . planetary survey data charts . . . _she groaned and stood up, stretching out the kinks in her back.

As she straightened, she caught a glimpse of Maa-Br'ee out of the corner of her eye. He strode in, dropping a container of food on the console by the monitor. "Dinnertime," he announced cheerfully.

"This is taking a while," Danae muttered. 

"Unfortunately, yes. But I need concrete information, Danae. Not half-sloshed rumors." He settled into a chair across from her and opened his own container of food.

"As opposed to the one that brought us here?" she snapped.

"You were far more enthusiastic on Tatooine."

"It was very hot. I was probably delusional."

"No, you were not, nor have ever been to my knowledge," Maa-Br'ee replied evenly. "You and I both know that there was something to Laeko's story, as well as the others I've heard. The question is what."

"It might not even be here, Maa-Br'ee. For all we know, it only concerns the Federation."

"And what about what we've seen so far?"

Danae slumped into her chair again, moodily picking up the container. "I can't believe there isn't a single being in this city who will give us a straight answer."

"The Rim is rather unusual in that respect. Always someone willing to talk, for a price." Maa-Br'ee jabbed his fork at her. "But an even graver cause for concern, if everyone is so truly frightened that not even credit can lure them out of silence."

Danae nodded. She chewed on her dumpling slowly, wincing inwardly at the bland taste. "Canissa's cuisine leaves much to be desired."

"It's an agricultural planet, and isolated. Natural that the entire cuisine should revolve around grain."

"Right. Boiled grain, grain patties, stew with grain base, grain lumped together and dumped in broth--" she bit into her dumpling again. 

Maa-Br'ee's face broke into a sly grin. "I still have some food capsules."

"No, no. This is adequate," Danae replied hastily. "Just an observation."

"So what else have you observed?"

"There was one thing." She leaned over the terminal and began typing. "Here. It's an addendum to a report from last year, a Federation report on the quality of Canissa's grain."

Maa-Br'ee rose and bent slightly, peering at the screen. "Just coordinates?"

"Not just any coordinates." She pressed more keys. A map of the planet leapt into view, the pixellated globe rotating until a single red dot appeared. "Coordinates for a location in the forest, a few klicks outside of Manis."

"Interesting," Maa-Br'ee purred. "What was the report about?"

"It stated that the quality of grain was rapidly diminishing, and cited poor irrigation and exhausted soil as possible causes. And it contained allegations of an unidentified freighter leaving from Canissa just as a Federation freighter was entering orbit. The allegations were dismissed, however." She flipped back to the report, scrolling through the text quickly. "Here. It's four reports later, months after the addendum. 'Spoke with Governor Pl'xa, and situation is resolved.'"

"A Governor, eh?" Maa-Br'ee sat back down. "And so long after initial sighting?"

"Very odd." Danae looked at him. "What do you think?"

"I think we should go out there. But not tomorrow. The day after. I must go see Qui-Gon, and I want you to look around the City some more, especially the Canissan section."

Danae exhaled slowly, visibly relieved. _He finally figured out a plan. At least there's something to work with._ "So you decided to contact him, after all?"

"Not really. My hand has been somewhat forced." Maa-Br'ee grinned slyly over his container. "I had a little encounter when I went to pick up our dinner."

"With Qui-Gon?" Danae was startled. "What did you tell him?"

"Not with Qui-Gon." Maa-Br'ee's grin broadened. "If you start to gloat, I shall have you practice with the droids tomorrow."

Danae wrinkled her nose, then suddenly made the connection. "He took Obi-Wan as his Padawan, didn't he?"

"Very adept, my apprentice."

She grinned, her expression a perfect match of her Master's.

"No gloating--" he waved a finger at her.

"I didn't say a word."

"But I can see it, right in your throat. It's waiting to pop out."

"I'm saying nothing. I'm just very happy for both of them."

Maa-Br'ee waved his finger again. "Ah ah ah--"

"I am, honestly." She began eating again, her face slipping into demure innocence.

"Are you that sick of the droids?"

"Your words, not mine," she replied airily.

He watched her closely for a minute, then shrugged. "Now I must figure out the best way to approach Qui-Gon."

"I suppose 'hello, old friend' isn't the best route?"

"I have no idea what his situation is. And I must have a very solid excuse for being here."

Danae snorted. "As opposed to Bavu's attempts to refurbish his entire ship at our expense?" Their pilot had been more than enthusiastic about the deal offered to him: to purposefully damage his ship in order to justify landing, in exchange for new parts that the Jedi would barter for. He had already gained a new navigation system in the few days they had been there.

"It is sufficient, but I want something a little more airtight." He gestured vaguely to the ship. "We're a long way from the Rim, further than I had planned upon."

"So say we hit an asteroid field, and drifted for a while." She looked at him sympathetically. "I don't like this whole story any more than you do. But you and I both know the Council would have never approved our coming here, not for such a hypothetical situation."

"Well, that might work," Maa-Br'ee replied, slightly mollified. "And hopefully it won't have to last long. Just enough to get me into the capitol building."

"What am I to do, exactly?"

"See if you can get any more information from the Canissan section. I need more than this. And stay out of the forest." He jabbed his fork at her again. "We should go there together, my Padawan. I don't want you disappearing too."

"Should I come to the building at all?"

Maa-Br'ee shook his head firmly. "No. And I'm not going to tell anyone about you, either. Qui-Gon and his apprentice will know, but past that I want you as free to act as possible. I might need you later."

Danae nodded. _Yet another of Maa-Br'ee's tactics. And it pays off more often than not, though the Council would never approve. Which makes me wonder how clearly the Council sees the galaxy, and our place in it._

"Other than that, we'll have to wait and see," Maa-Br'ee continued, then sighed. "And we should rest now."

She grinned at his mournful tone. _For all his teachings, he's almost as impatient as I am, sometimes._ "How exciting."

He rose and wagged a finger at her. "Just promise me you won't provoke anything tomorrow." 

"I won't go picking fights, Maa-Br'ee. I'll just explore, how's that?"

"Be careful," he said firmly. "And do nothing. Absolutely nothing. We cannot act until I speak with Qui-Gon."

"Okay."

He paused at the door, looking at her sternly.

"Okay," she repeated pointedly. "Yes, Master? I will obey, Master?"

"Now that's more like it." He smiled briefly and withdrew.

  
3.

Obi-Wan sighed with relief as the third morning session drew to a close. _We actually got one issue resolved, this time._ But it had only happened through Qui-Gon's near-demand that a decision be reached, and Pl'xa had been visibly irate even as she voted on the motion.

"Shall we break for a meal, then?" Maku smiled at Qui-Gon. "Perhaps you would like to join us?"

Obi-Wan tried not to gape. _Why now? Is it just because we got something resolved?_

Qui-Gon was visibly startled as well,but simply nodded. "Of course, Governor Maku. Though my student needs to check on our ship."

"Well, why don't you get him settled, then meet Governor Pl'xa and myself in the dining hall?" He waved his hand breezily, seemingly oblivious to the Canissan's irritation.

"I would be honored," Qui-Gon replied, bowing. "Come, my apprentice. Let's go to the docking bay."

They strode out quickly, the two Governors following at a more leisurely pace before turning towards the dining hall. Lieutenant Pune had already disappeared, his comlink clutched in one hand, presumably to send a message to the Federation.

Halfway to the docking bay, Qui-Gon stopped. "I'm afraid you'll have to find a meal for yourself."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied. He was looking at Qui-Gon curiously.

"Jehru is coming," Qui-Gon said after a moment.

Obi-Wan reached out with his mind, trying to sense the new Jedi presence. But all he could feel was a faint bending, the slightest of fluctuations. _Same as yesterday. But it's a strange sensation. Almost as if he was only half-alive, half-present._

"I don't know what the reaction will be. Or for what reason he has come to Canissa." Qui-Gon looked at him sternly. "Stay out of sight this afternoon. I'll make excuses for you at the meeting. And be very alert."

"Master?" Obi-Wan paused, shifting uneasily.

"Ask," Qui-Gon replied simply.

"What do you think is wrong?" He looked up at the tall Jedi hopefully. _Wouldn't it be better if I knew what I was avoiding?_

"I honestly don't know, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, kneeling in front of him. "You know as much as I do. But if something does happen, I might have need of you, and you are freer outside of the talks than involved in them. Does that make sense?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "What about Maa-Br'ee? And his Padawan?"

"I don't know where Danae is. Jehru is coming alone, that much is certain. But their ship must be close by, probably on the outskirts of Manis. So remember that as well, my apprentice. And as of this moment, the repairs are proving more complicated than we thought, and you must give our vessel your full attention." He squeezed the boy's shoulders. "I will see you tonight after the session ends. And I will tell you what Jehru says, so we can figure out how to proceed."

"Yes, Master."

"Be alert. Listen to the Force. And trust no one."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan repeated, looking at him warily.

"Very good, then." Qui-Gon rose, dusting at his knees. "I must attend to lunch, and yet more discussion." He smiled at Obi-Wan, trying to lighten the mood.

Obi-Wan began trudging towards the docking bay. After a few steps he paused, looking back at Qui-Gon. "Master?"

Qui-Gon nodded.

"I sense it, too."

"Just be alert, Obi-Wan." He smiled again. "I'm sure this is nothing. We must be patient, and wary. But that is all."

Obi-Wan sighed and turned back towards the docking bay, frowning slightly to himself.

* * * * *

Danae scowled at the tree in front of her. 

She had been walking through the forest for a good two hours, searching for any sign of a structure. But all she had found were trees upon trees, the floor of the forest covered with a scrubby brush that scratched at her legs. She was getting sweaty, and irritable. _I'm halfway to the coordinates. But I see no sign of any activity. For all I know, it was the Federation representative's favorite picnic spot._

She looked up at the tree, a solid, ancient plant. It rose up at least ten feet higher than any other she had seen, and the branches were wide, forming a decent ladder for ascent. Quickly she knocked the hood of her jacket down and began pulling it off. It was an old brown coat of Bavu's she had donned to ensure some degree of inconspicuousness, but while it served well for a disguise, it was proving to be far warmer and constricting than she had wanted. She slung it through the belt she wore loosely around her hips and walked up to the trunk of the tree. Her torso, clad only in the snug undershirt of her Jedi uniform, shuddered slightly as the wind touched her damp skin. _At least I had the sense to ditch the stupid tunic. One less garment to worry about._

She put her foot up on the trunk and began hoisting herself up. As she climbed steadily, ascending from one branch to the next, her mind began to wander. _I promised Maa-Br'ee I'd stay out of the forest. But I'm not really in it, not far anyway. And the Canissans weren't interested in chatting; they acted like they hated me._

Indeed, her entire morning had been wasted in the Canissan section, trying to strike up conversations with the few natives she found clustered about, pretending to be lost. Even a few gentle nudges with the Force hadn't provoked them into speaking to her, though she heard faint whispers between them as she moved on. __

Though why I'd be such a topic for discussion I'll never know. So it's not my fault that I'm here--I couldn't waste the afternoon as well. _All I'll do is take a look around, and then go back to the ship._ She scowled again as she passed a bird's nest, the young inside squawking hungrily at her. _Sorry, kids. Not your mother. Just count yourself lucky you have one._

Her own mother had died just as she was born, and while Danae knew she had no reason to dwell on the unknown woman, she often found her thoughts turning back to the few vague details that Yoda had told her. A Provissian woman, made ill by the lack of a natural water source on Coruscant, too sick even for the Healers to save her. Her name had been Tavae, which Danae had since learned meant "balance." _Rather appropriate, all things considered._

_And your focus is all but gone, Danae._

She finally reached a good-sized branch near the top and straddled it. Beyond her the branches thinned into delicate twigs, far too slender to hold even her weight. She settled against the trunk and looked around.

Further away from the city, the forest wound on, then suddenly fell into a deep valley. _Must be a hundred meters down at least. Quite a drop._ She fumbled in her belt pack for her quick sketch of the coordinates and spread it open on her knees.

_So it's in the valley, but not far, just over the edge. No obvious way down there. A difficult descent, and why would anyone bother? Plenty of forest up here, with all the game and timber you could want._

Carefully Danae inched out further on the branch, straining to see over the edge of the cliff whose outline she could just see between the trees. As she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun, she felt a shift in the Force, and realized she was no longer alone.

She ducked quickly, yanking the jacket out of her belt and pulling it over her head. Cursing to herself, she flexed her body minutely, trying to work her way back towards the greater shelter of the trunk. A branch cracked somewhere near the ground, and she froze.

"Hurry up," a deep male voice hissed in Cant.

"Where is it?" a lighter voice, male as well, responded quickly. "We hid it too well, I think."

"It doesn't matter. We can check back tonight."

"But if it gets out--"

"If it gets out that we're here in daylight, it will be far worse than anything we did last night," the deep voice retorted. "Now come on!"

Danae peered over her branch. She could see the faintest movement below. _Their clothes are green, perfectly matched to the forest tones. A good camoflage job._ She pulled the jacket more tightly around herself, working the hood over her head until only her eyes showed. Then she pried off a large seed cone and winged it at the tree across from her.

The noise caused the figures to halt. They looked up, and she sucked in her breath. _Masked. They're fully masked. Those goggles have lenses- could serve as night vision of some sort--looks just like the ones Tusken Raiders wear--_

"What was that?" the lighter voice said nervously.

"Probably an animal," the first responded. "We should go."

They began walking away. Danae closed her eyes, listening for the direction of the footsteps padding on the soft earth. _Towards the cliff edge. Almost there--_

And then there was nothing. 

She opened her eyes in astonishment and looked in the direction they had taken. _Sma. Where did they go? Damn it all!_

She waited for what seemed like an eternity, but only silence met her ears. Finally she began climbing down, after first donning the jacket properly. _Serves me right for taking it off. _

As she hit the ground, she looked about warily, her lightsaber securely in her hand. A close examination of the dirt showed a trail of footprints. She followed them to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the valley.

_Nothing. No movement, no sound, nothing._ She listened intently for a moment, then dropped to her stomach and worked her head and shoulders over the edge, her hair stirring gently in the wind. _ Straight drop. No ladder. No vent. No trace of any sort of vehicle. _

"Baatu," she muttered to herself. Rising, she dusted off her jacket and pants before turning to follow the trail back.

At the base of her tree she paused again. _They had left something here, hidden it from view._

With a sigh, she bent and began scouring the forest floor. After almost an hour, she finally found a section of soil that had recently been disturbed. She dug steadily, ignoring the strain in her back, the sweat that ran down her face and neck. It wasn't until she found the body that she began to feel afraid.

* * * * *

Obi-Wan wiped at the sweat on his brow and stood up, grimacing at the gaping hole in the ship's main hold, wires spilling out to form a web over the floor. _It's almost finished_. _Change the relays, fix the panel, seal it all back up. And I need to get some food--I'm starving._

He walked down the boarding ramp and rounded the nose of the ship. A small astromech was working diligently on the torn outer panel. "Almost done?"

The droid whirred and beeped.

"How much longer?"

It beeped again, more dolefully.

"Keep going. I'll be back later in the afternoon."

He ran to their quarters, changing hurriedly out of his grimy tunic. After a moment's pause, he put on a plainer shirt, a farmer's tunic that was similar to the ones he had seen the Humans wearing in Manis, and hid his lightsaber in the sleeve. He wasn't quite sure why, but his instinct told him it might be better to look nondescript.

A quick splash of water on his face and he was out the door, striding quickly towards the main entrance to the building. He stopped as he saw the guards there, ducking into an alcove on the left. _ Always Canissans at the entrance. They'll ask questions. And I'm supposed to stay out of sight. _

Obi-Wan looked about warily. There was no other exit that he could see. But Qui-Gon always said a solution would present itself, if he was patient. So he waited, watcbing the doors closely. Suddenly he sensed movement to his right, and pressed himself further into the alcove.

A middle-aged Human woman emerged from another corridor, dragging a large basket behind her. It was piled to the brim with laundry, and her face was red with exertion. As he watched, she nearly tipped the basket over. Muttering to herself in Cant, she righted the basket and began dragging it again.

He stepped out of the alcove quickly, picking up the other handle. The woman stared at him, her face almost stricken.

_Why is she so upset?_ He smiled at her encouragingly, pulling up on the basket. Slowly, the woman did the same, and they began walking towards the doors. Obi-Wan could feel her eyes on him, and kept the smile plastered on his face.

As they passed the guards, Obi-Wan ducked his head, studiously looking at the basket. The woman hissed something to a guard, who scowled in return, baring large white teeth that were slightly pointed. But then they were through the doors, and Obi-Wan raised his head, sighing in relief.

"Thank you," he said quickly, then realized she probably couldn't understand him. 

But she nodded. "Welcome," she said in a heavily accented Basic.

"You know Basic?"

She nodded again. "Little."

"I'm Obi-Wan."

"Vani." She pointed. "You go?"

He followed her arm, gesturing to the Human section. "Yes."

They carried the basket down the wide boulevard that lead from the capitol building to the city streets. It was a pleasant strip, or it would be if the pavement wasn't cracked, the surrounding buildings covered in a flaking plaster, some with their windows boarded up. Obi-Wan took it all in with a quick, sure glance, reviewing what he had seen before. _A struggling planet indeed._

But not even the sense of unease that was growing inside of himself could stem the pleasantness of the day. The sun warmed his skin nicely, and a gentle breeze was cutting through the city streets, ruffling his shorn hair. He felt the tiny braid on his head twitch, and grimaced. _I hate that stupid thing. It makes me look weird. But Qui-Gon insists that I keep it. Though I have no idea why._

As the boulevard narrowed in a street, Vani turned abruptly and cut down an alley. At the fourth small house she stopped, pulling a ring of keys out of her pocket. "Thank you," she said, a hint of a smile playing around her lips.

"Do you need help?"

Vani's face darkened. "All need help." She opened the door, dragging the basket inside.

"What do you--" 

But the door slammed in his face.

He memorized the house, then headed back to the street. There he hesitated. Half a kilometer away he could see the start of the Canissan section, sloping up a hill, dotted with ornate houses and large shops. Behind him was the Human section, haphazardly constructed on a flat stretch of land, marked by plainer houses of mud and wood. A strip of park separated the two sides, once obviously well-tended, but now little more than brown straw and a few lopsided trees.

_What side to go on, then?_ They had seen almost nothing of the Canissan section, going to the closer Human shops for their meals. _It might be worthwhile to explore. But I saw Maa-Br'ee in the Human section. Maybe that's where their ship is. There seem to be fields at the edge of the buildings; the forest gives way there._

Qui-Gon's warning echoed in his head, and he cut away into the Human section. It seemed impossible that trouble could arise in such a pleasant afternoon, but this way he had two possible escape routes: one to the ship which was probably on the far side of the section, and another back to the capitol building.

He eyed the passerby, noting again how almost no Human looked at him completely, glancing at his face and then turning away. He could smell cooking grain from almost every restaurant and tavern door, and his stomach felt queasy. _I'm really sick of grain now. I'd almost prefer food capsules._ He was beginning to think he'd do better on the Canissan side when a shadow fell across his path, and he looked up as a voice spoke.

"Well, this is a surprise."

Obi-Wan stared at the most beautiful pair of violet eyes he had ever seen. They gazed at him warmly, the irises as golden as he remembered, surrounded by dusty black lashes. A black eyebrow arched up in surprise, almost touching the short locks of purple-black hair that were beginning to curve over a nearly white face. 

Danae grinned at him. _My goodness, what a stare. _"Forgot all about me, didn't you?"

"No." Obi-Wan swallowed. _I'm just her height, but she's gotten so much older. Her face is thinner. Her eyes--they're just as I remember. And her neck--_ he quickly focused his attention on the moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Just looking around. What are you doing here?"

"I'm hungry," he said quickly, then blushed. "I mean--I was working on the ship, and I missed the noon meal."

Her face became serious. "Was your ship damaged?"

"We passed a freighter on our way here. It released some debris, and we were struck by a piece."

"What freighter?"

He frowned at the urgency in her tone. "We hailed it, but it didn't respond."

"Where's your pilot?"

"We didn't have one. The Canissans sent us one, to guide us here."

"Uh-oh." She grimaced. "What race was the pilot? And did you tell Maa-Br'ee?"

"He was Canissan." Obi-Wan stared at her, not understanding. "I haven't seen Maa-Br'ee." 

"He was supposed to be going to meet you two."

"Master Qui-Gon said he sensed him coming, but I think he wanted to talk to your Master alone."

Danae exhaled audibly. "_Sma_. You had me worried for a minute."

He tore his eyes away from her face and looked her over. Her clothes were equally as nondescript as his own, a worn brown jacket over the pants and boots of her Padawan uniform. She was spotted with dirt, and a few bits of bark were sticking to her jacket. As she rubbed at her hair, the edges of the jacket fell open; he could see that she was only wearing her undershirt, having foregone her tunic as well.

_A very tight undershirt. You can practically see everything._ He immediately looked back at her face, fighting the urge to blush again.

"So you wanted some food?" She smiled at him.

"Have you eaten?"

"A little. But I could use something. Preferably without grain in the recipe."

She began strolling down the street, and Obi-Wan fell into step beside her. "The food is a little boring here--" he began.

"Maa-Br'ee keeps threatening me with food capsules, so I keep eating it." She chuckled. "Although I've stopped telling myself it will grow on me. There's no chance of that happening."

He grinned, starting to relax for the first time since they arrived on Canissa. "How long have you been here for?"

"Three days now."

"I've got one on you, then."

"We know," she said softly.

Obi-Wan looked at her. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice equally as soft.

Danae hesitated. _How much am I supposed to tell him? Maa-Br'ee's been playing it close. But--_ she glanced at Obi-Wan, watching her earnestly. _Baatu. I can't hide anything from him. Not when he looks at me like that._

"There's something wrong," she admitted. "Really wrong."

"Do you know what it is?"

"I think so. We have a possibility. Well, a little more than that, after this morning." She glanced around. "Bavu swears he got a fruit plate from one of these buildings--"

"What happened this morning? And who's Bavu?"

"Our pilot." She smiled at him, carefully ignoring the first question. "You should come by after we eat, and meet him."

_We eat?_ He began to feel a little lightheaded. "Uh, sure. Although I have to get back, finish the repairs."

"It won't take long. He's really nice. Has lots of good stories to tell."

"Okay, then."

Danae ground to a halt in front of a building. "Broken upper panel in the window, one table outside--this has to be the place." She pushed the door open, absently tugging Obi-Wan after her.

And then she sensed it. As her fingers closed over his forearm, he flinched. She looked back at him, but his face was neutral. _Did I imagine it? But he twitched, inside. And how did I sense it?_

Puzzled, she dropped into a seat at the nearest table. Obi-Wan sat across from her, studying the interior. The tavern was small, almost a hovel. Four tables were scattered haphazardly in the tiny room. A waiter was piling dirty dishes in a large bin, but turned when they entered. 

Obi-Wan gasped. While the waiter looked like a Human from behind, his face was marked by a large protrusion on his forehead. His arms extended seamlessly into hands. The being's entire body seemed slightly lumpen, and he shuffled as he approached their table.

Danae's eyes were on him, and as he looked at her in surprise she shook her head briefly before turning to the waiter. "Hello," she said warmly in Cant. 

"What?" the waiter replied, his voice toneless. 

"A friend of mine tells me you have a fruit plate here." She smiled at the waiter, trying to project reassurance and friendliness.

"Yes," he replied shortly.

"Two, then. And some juice, if you have any."

"Water or ale."

"Water, then."

As the waiter shuffled away, she looked back at Obi-Wan. "So you haven't seen one before?"

He shook his head. "A _slag_?"

"We think so, Maa-Br'ee and I. He's the fifth one I've seen so far. They're not chatty, if you didn't notice."

"I didn't understand what you were saying," Obi-Wan admitted. "I tried to pick up some Cant before we came, but it was difficult to try and sort through the sounds."

"It took me a day to get the hang of it." Danae shrugged. "Maa-Br'ee thinks I have some sort of language talent. Which, in comparison to him, I do. He can't even speak Huttese well, and he's been on the Rim for years now."

"Is that where you've been?" 

"For the most part." She sighed. "Nine years now. Makes a girl feel old, it does."

He smiled. "You're not that old."

"I'm older than you."

"Not by much."

Her eyes met his. "So when's your birthday, then?"

He muttered it and eyed her. "And yours?"

With a little cry of triumph, she recited the date. "Three years older!"

"Two years, seven months, and twelve days," he retorted.

"After two and a half, you might as well round up."

"I prefer to be precise," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"So by-the-book, are we?" 

"I seek to become a Jedi."

"That doesn't mean you have to follow the rules."

His face fell. "Master Qui-Gon said you were different."

"How so?" She eyed him curiously. _We've both relaxed, without even realizing it. Like we've been friends for years. _

"He said--" He paused, frowning, as two plates of fruit fell before them, followed by two glasses of water. 

"Thank you," Danae said quickly in Cant, but the waiter had already turned.

Obi-Wan picked at a marbleberry with his fork, biting into it carefully. He closed his eyes as he chewed it. 

"That good, huh?" She bit into a piece from her own plate. "Oh, thank the stars."

"They must have orchards here, but then why not have a more varied cuisine?"

"What did they tell you about the agriculture in the reports?" Danae spoke around her fork as she stuffed another piece of fruit into her mouth.

"That Canissa has had three seasons of drought, which has exhausted the soil. Is that why you came?"

"No. And it sounds like a job for the Agri-Corps, if that's the case. Not a renegotiation." She hesitated as she saw Obi-Wan's face darken. "Sorry," she added hastily.

"It's okay." But he bit into another piece of fruit, chewing methodically.

"Didn't I tell you it would be fine?" She arched an eyebrow. "You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?"

"No, I did," he responded seriously. "I heard everything. And you were right. It did turn out fine."

"Well, you're the first to actually heed my words, then. Maa-Br'ee never listens to me."

It took him a moment to realize she was joking. "Right."

"He never does. Always getting ideas in his head, dragging me all over the galaxy--"

"You're not answering my question," he pointed out.

"Oh." She sobered immediately. "We're not supposed to be here at all, you know."

"Master Qui-Gon was surprised, as was I."

"We heard a rumor, on Tatooine." She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Of an illegal trade operation."

"Here?" His voice had dropped as well.

"In organs." _Just saying the word makes me sick._

Obi-Wan shook his head. "But the Republic regulates all medical supplies--"

"Exactly." She leaned back, watching him carefully.

"By who?"

_He's buying it. So they must sense something as well. _"We're not sure. At this point, I would say the Canissans."

"Why?"

"Look around you." She gestured to the tavern. "This whole city is   
shoddier than a Rim spaceport. All the Humans are hungry, and afraid. But not on the Canissan side."

"That's not enough," Obi-Wan said after a moment.

"There's also stories, here in the Human section. Stories about people disappearing." 

His stomach rolled over slowly. The sense of unease riccocheted back through his mind, sending fresh tremors up his spine. _I don't like the feel of this. Not at all._

Finally he swallowed. "What else?"

Danae smiled wanly at him. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours?"

He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she began to recount what she and Maa-Br'ee knew, and what she had discovered that morning.

  
To be continued . . .   



End file.
